Sanity, Purpose and the 70-Hour Work-week

First, a story that I heard in my elementary school days. A hunter and his dog pursue a deer. The deer gets away. Frustrated, the hunter asks the dog how he, a trained hound, could lose to a mere deer. The dog says, ‘It wasn't an equal contest. The difference is motivation! I was running to make you happy. The deer was running to save her life!’

Narayana Murthy, the founder of Infosys, has stirred a hornet’s nest by suggesting that young people work 70 hours a week. Fierce criticism came from the work-life-balance advocates. Left leaning minds labeled that a statement by a capitalist trying to extract more work from his underlings. 

I agree that the optics aren’t good. The Indian IT industry, of which Infosys is a big part, is known to overwork its employees. But if you read further, Murthy seems to have said it in the context of making his country a powerhouse. He referenced Germany and Japan working hard to rebuild their respective nations after the second world war.

At the risk of being labeled the boomer uncle, let me provide my take: Young people should work long hours, and pick the right reason to work hard early in their careers.

Working Hard at a Young Age Builds Expertise

Malcolm Gladwell tells us the story of the Beatles in his book, ‘Outliers’. We think of the band as a collection of freakishly talented individuals. We attribute all their success to that talent. Gladwell, on the other hand, reckons that the unusually large number of hours that the band played together in the early ‘60s in the bars of Germany was the primary reason for their success. Those hours built uncommon expertise, a unique style, and team dynamics that served them well in the 70s. 

Gladwell founded the 10,000 hour theory. The theory says you need to practice for 10,000 hours before you can be an expert in any field. He explains how the Beatles got there early without being aware of it. He cites Bill Gates as another example. Gates secured access to a computer he could program with as a high schooler. He was driven by his interest to work long hours every day. Gladwell believes that gave Gates his 10,000 hours before Gates entered his professional life.

Young people, who have time on their side, should work hard early in their lives so their “10,000 hours” roll in sooner. It also gets harder with later stages of life.

Purpose Makes all the Difference

If you do the 70 hour weeks due to lack of planning in your workplace, you are wasting your precious youth.  You should consider changing jobs. But if you do that for something that you believe in, it makes it all worthwhile.

Now, a story on purpose. Vincent Van Gogh was considered a poor student of art. As a child, he spent an inordinate amount of time observing insects and labeling beetles. He apparently failed to learn from his celebrity art teacher at school. He moved to Paris when there was an explosion of art studios. However, he was not impressed by anything that he saw there. Now a young man, he tried working at an arts dealership, a bookstore, a school and a church. Frustrated by his lack of success in all these, he had been drawing as a distraction during those years. He tried various artistic pastimes, all of which met with unfavorable reviews. Many years and many experiments later, he came to the realization that he could paint, if he gave up the quest for perfect realism. One night, he watched the sky for hours and imagined the sky behind a tiny town with a chapel. The painting was The Starry Night. The rest, as they say, is history. Everything relating to art that Van Gogh did led him to that point.

The purpose was cricket for Tendulkar, tennis for Federer and mathematics for Ramanujan. If you think those examples are too cliched, consider the story of Padmasri Thimmakka, who considered planting trees and caring for them her mission. She did not do it for accolades, although national recognition was to come later.

For us common folks, this implies that we should work on a career that aligns with something worthwhile, even if we can’t see the immediate benefits.

It could be your passion, or just a cause that is bigger than yourself.  It’s up to you to decide what’s worthwhile. In my opinion, gaining billable hours for a services organization doesn’t qualify as a worthwhile cause. Nor does blogging 10,000 hours on the Big Boss season!

You Can (Must) Choose Whom to Work Hard For

Self employed people and entrepreneurs have less of a conflict, as it's clear whom they work for. For the employed folks, purpose alignment needs work.

Your first loyalty is to yourself. If you need to work for someone whose values don’t align with yours, you can choose to keep the relationship transactional, and devote your ‘expertise hours’ elsewhere. Clearly, it’s best when your work aligns with your passion, but we all have to make compromises to earn a livelihood. We all know folks who are more than competent in a pursuit outside their main careers. 

Whether you pursue an expertise in your workplace or outside, the key is to think like an owner. No one else owes you a career or interesting life. Employers need to balance between the customer interests, ownership interests and employee interests. It’s not reasonable to expect them to always make choices that help you pursue your passion. So you are clearly the boss when it comes to your interests.

Speaking of my own working career, there were two spells when I had to do unusually long hours to meet workplace demands. One was due to overcommitment by my employer. I, like many people who vent on social media these days, resented the situation, and justifiably blamed my employer for my stress. The second was due to a technical challenge that I had accepted on my own. I saw the solution at 6:30 AM on a Christmas morning. That success remains one of the fondest memories of my working career. No one, other than my passion, had forced me to do the hours I did. The difference between the two instances is who made the commitment that made me work those outrageous hours.

From the employers' point of view, they need a combination of steady contributors who work their predictable hours; and passionate people who want nothing short of world domination, and are willing to spend their energy towards the goal. It’s fair that the employer rewards the latter group disproportionately. In fact, it would be unfair if they didn't. 

Shoot the Good Messenger?

Now, coming back to Mr. Murthy, remember that he’s not asking for anything that he hasn’t done himself. His passion was building a company. I’m sure he made several sacrifices early in his career to position himself for success.

I’ve seen some folks who disagree with his statement snobbishly dismiss Infosys as a back office sweatshop. But it’s not clear what they’ve built that sufficiently qualifies them to dismiss Mr. Murthy’s achievements. 

When a self-made billionaire who has provided employment to hundreds of thousands speaks, I listen with a positive bias. I don't turn my nose up and insult the speaker.

Pic credit: CNN

A Few Poems from Ponniyin Selvan

Early in the story of Ponniyin Selvan, Vandhiyathevan goes to meet the astrologer of Kudanthai (josiyar) to get his fortune read. The josiyar says the horoscope may already be in his library. Vandhiyathevan expresses his surprise, The astrologer explains that he is a minor celebrity, being from a famous clan.

And quotes the following verse.

வாணன் புகழுரையா வாயுண்டோ, மாகதர்கோன்

வாணன் பெயரெழுதா மார்புண்டோ - வாணன்

கொடி தாங்கி நில்லாத கொம்புண்டோ - உண்டோ

அடிதாங்கி நில்லா அரசு!

This song is from a compilation of Kamban’s poems (தனிப்பாடல் திரட்டு).

Ponniyin Pudhalvar, Kalki’s biography, describes how this song came to be used.

Kalki based his fiction on two prominent sources - Neelakanta Shastri’s ‘Later Chozhas’, and Sadasiva Pandarathar’s Tamil book on the history of later Chozhas (பிற்காலச் சோழர் சரித்திரம்).

The latter volume simply states that Kundavai, the Chozha princess was married to a man by name Vallavarayan Vadhiyathevan, and offers a conjecture that he may have been a prince in the Eastern Chalukyan clan. In Kalki’s hand-written notes, he disagrees with that conjecture, and simply states that he must have been the prince of the Vanar clan. It’s not clear what led him to that belief.

Pooniyin pudhalvar describes attributes the seong to this sequence: As he was writing the novel. he remembers that “Rasikamani” T K Chidambaranatha Mudaliar (TKC) had sung a few poems (வெண்பாக்கள்) on Vanar dynasty and other topics when they had met at Kutralam. He writes to TKC, asking for all such poems, and receives them . He uses them in appropriate places in the novel, or creates scenarios for their use.

Kalki does not credit the above poem to Kamban. A good thing, as its use in a scene set in the 10th century would have been anachronistic. Kamban was born almost two centuries after the time of this scene.

Ponniyin Pudhalvar does not list the other poems that TKC provided sent, but here's is my guess.

Diehard Kalki fans should have fun, recalling the context these poems are used in.

Volume 2: Chapter 32

கச்சி ஒரு கால் மிதியா ஒரு காலால்

தந்து நீர்த் தண்தஞ்சை தான்மிதியாப் - பிற்றையும்

ஈழம் ஒரு கால் மிதியா வருமே நம்

கோழியர் கோக் கிள்ளிக் களிறு !

Volume 2 - Chapter 36

என் கவிகை என் சிவிகை என் கவசம் என் துவசம்

என் கரியீது என் பரியீது என்பரே -

மன்கவன மாவேந்தன் வாணன் வரிசைப்பரிசு

பெற்ற பாவேந்தரை - வேந்தர் பார்த்து !

Volume 4: Chapter 45

சேனை தழையாக்கி செங்குருதி நீர் தேக்கி

ஆனை மிதித்த அருஞ்சேற்றில் - மானபரன்

பாவேந்தர் தம் வேந்தன் வாணன் பறித்துநட்டான்

மூவேந்தர் தங்கள் முடி.

The last verse is on the Chozha emperor, Sundara Chozhar.

Volume 1: Chapter 27

ஐந்திரன் எறக்கரி அளித்தார், பரிஏ ழளித்தார் செந்திரு மேனித் தினகரர்க்கு, சிவனார் மனைத்துப் பைந்துகில் ஏறப் பள்ளக்களித்தார் - பழையாறை நகர்ச் சுந்தரச்சோழரை யாவரொப்பார்கள் இத் தொல் நிலத்தே!

Thanks to Ponniyin Pudhalvar.

Pic credit: The Kalki Magazine.

War - What's it Good For?

 

Here’s how I’d summarize the war from the Indian epic, Mahabharat:

‘Two sides are in a conflict. One side wants its rights, but is willing to compromise, live and let live. The other side wants it all, is envious of the former’s success, and is willing to use questionable methods to win. 

They go to war. To start with, the first side fights fairly. As the war heats up, nastiness escalates, Losses mount on both sides. The first side starts breaking rules as well. At some point, it becomes hard to tell the good guys from the bad. 

The ‘good’ guys go on until the other side is almost entirely destroyed, and declare victory. The few living soldiers from the other side, overcome with their losses and with nothing to lose, attack the victors’ camp as they sleep, and kill all their children.

The victorious good side take their rightful place as rulers, but have no joy, having lost their kith and kin.’

I’ve been thinking about this a lot in the last few days. All wars follow this pattern.

Susheela M.A. - Novelette by Kalki in English (part 3 of 3)

Chapter 6

Susheela stayed in Chennai for two days after this episode. The organizers of Hitler Gurusamy’s hunger strike requested her to assume leadership of the movement. They claimed that Gurusamy had been part of Congress’ sleeper cell all along. They had suspected for a while and that their theory was proven right when Gurusamy disappeared with the proceeds of the Hunger Strike Fund, amounting to Rs. 350. They swore that Susheela was their new leader, and that they would resume the protests if she started a hunger strike.

None of this helped Susheela rediscover her enthusiasm for the cause. The evening newspapers disheartened her further. There were two pertinent news items.

First, there was a statement from Hitler Gurusamy. He had said: 

‘I’m compelled to speak up, as I heard that there has been an inadequate buzz about the reasons behind my decision to end the hunger strike. My sole motivation was the dignity of Tamil Nadu. Avvayar, our dear Tamil poetess has said: 

Dignity, Pedigree, Education, Strength, Wisdom, Charity, Penance, Efforts, Perseverance and Love for the spoken word - these ten things fly on facing hunger.

If I’d held on to these despite intense hunger, I’d have falsified the words of the great poetess. I didn’t want to!

During my hunger strike, I discovered several secrets of prominent politicians. I also learned of the inscrutable nature of women. I’ll reveal all in due course. The revelations are bound to shock the Tamil public!”

Susheela heaved a sigh. Her anger at Gurusamy gave way to pity. ‘Poor guy! He is guileless, unlike the people who have gathered around me in the last day or two’, she thought.

The second item that caught her attention was the headline:

‘Population Explosion in India. How do we avoid food shortage and starvation?’

There was an interview of Mr. Balasundaram, B.A., M.E., O.P.H. along with his picture. In the interview, Balasundaram had revealed several amazing factoids that were already well known. India’s population in 1930 was 35 crores. In 1940, it was 39.5 crores. In 10 years, the population had increased 4.5 crores, or 12.5%. But the food production had increased only 2.5%. At this rate, a food shortage was inevitable. It was time for the best thinkers of the nation to focus on the issue, or all would be lost.

So what did Balasundaram propose as a solution? He had two recommendations. First, increase food production, using modern techniques used in the western countries. In particular, generating hydroelectric energy from the abundant waterfalls in the country, and using the energy for agricultural purposes. He would focus on these efforts, starting immediately.

Balasundaram resumed, “But this won’t be enough to solve the problem. With all these, it would take 10 years to catch up with the needs of the 40 crore people. But the population would have increased further in this time, widening the gap. To mitigate the issue, at least a crore people should take an oath to remain unmarried and childless. I intend to take the oath, and start a movement for this. But on some occasions…”.

Susheela couldn’t read further. She threw the newspaper down with disgust. The world, which had hitherto resembled an unfriendly desert, now felt like an ocean churned by a tornado. 

She wanted to get away from it all. ‘Where do I go to avoid people? Why, there is just the place - Kutralam! There is the family bungalow. There is the resident gardener for help. I should go there, and let father know my whereabouts’, she mused.

Chapter 7

When Susheela decided to go to Kutralam, it was 8:30 P.M – too late to catch the daily express train. She was not willing to wait till the next day. So she took the slower option of the passenger train. The train traveled at a leisurely pace. It eventually arrived at Tenkasi at 8 PM the next day. She hired a cart to take her to Kutralam.

The cart finally reached the bungalow titled ‘Gomathi’. When she got off the cart, she was surprised that the lights were on. ‘Who could it be?’

The resident gardener hurried to greet her, obviously surprised to see her. ‘An unannounced visit at this hour Ma’m? Did you travel alone? Where are you coming from? Is Sir arriving later?’

‘No, it’s just me. Who’s at home, Madasamy?’

‘Oh, it’s just our Therijikkadu sir!’

That was an unpleasant surprise. She still despised Balasundaram. She did not wish to see him especially after being so publicly disgraced. But it was too late to go back.

‘Tell him I’m here, and that I would like him to vacate the house for me.’

After some hesitation, the gardener trundled off. He returned after a while. ‘

‘He says it’s too late in the day to go anywhere. He suggested that you stay in the room upstairs. It’s unoccupied.’

This seemed satisfactory. Susheela asked Madasamy to get her bags and walked upstairs.

The young cook approached her after a while. ‘Can I bring you dinner, Ma’m?’

“Did sir send you to ask this?’

‘I asked him. He said you wouldn’t be pleased if he offered you dinner, and suggested I ask you directly!’.

Susheela felt a surge of anger, and snapped, ‘I don’t want any dinner!’. The cook retreated.

Susheela, for all her accomplishments, behaved like a stereotypical woman from the stories. She fell face down on her bed and sobbed. She took a while to fall asleep. She woke up late, well after seven. When she walked downstairs, the gardener was taking the dishes for washing. The cook was leaving with a packet in hand.

‘What is this? Where is sir?’

‘Sir has gone uphill to the wooden bridge. I’m taking some dosas for his breakfast. He has instructed me to move his things out.’

Susheela felt her eyes moisten. She said, ‘I’m on my way to the wooden bridge. Don’t move his things until we return.’

There was a pond at the foot of the waterfalls. It was surrounded by clean, whitish rocks. Balasundaram was seated on one of those rocks. He heard footsteps and turned around. He didn’t seem surprised. 

‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

‘Unexpected perhaps, but is it indeed a pleasure?’

In reply, Balasundaram just smiled.

‘Leave that aside. I heard you asked for your things to be moved. It’s not necessary. I’ll be leaving tonight.’

‘Thank you. Moving is a hassle!’.

He took the cook aside and talked to him for a while.

"We’ve sat here and talked for countless hours. All that seems like a lifetime ago!’, said Susheela, as he returned. They reminisced about the good old days.

After a while, Susheela said, ‘Ok, I’m hungry. Let’s eat. Where are the dosas?’

‘That’s funny!’, said Balasundaram.

‘What is?’

‘I thought you may fly off the handle if I mention dosas. I asked Pazhani to take the breakfast back. Now you’re hungry!’

Susheela laughed aloud. She hadn’t laughed like that for a long time.

‘So, what do we do now?’, asked Susheela.

‘What can we do? We have to wait for lunch. I asked for lunch to be sent to Thenaruvi. Let’s walk there.’

On the way, they talked more about the good old days. They had to jump between and climb over rocks. In several places, Balasundaram had to lend a hand to help Susheela up. They reached Thenaruvi at eleven.

!!!!!

I ask the readers to interpret the above exclamation marks as the verbal description of Thenaruvi.

They bathed in the pond at the foot of the falls. They dried the clothes and wore them again. Then they sat on a rock and waited for Pazhani. Balasundaram told Susheela tales of his visit abroad to distract her from the pangs of hunger. Despite his efforts, Susheela was occasionally looking at her wristwatch, and asking, ‘What is taking Pazhani so long?’ At long last, Pazhani emerged at a distance, carrying a basket on his head. The two moved to the foot of the waterfall, and rinsed the top of a rock in preparation for dining.

Pazhani was nearing them. He had to leap from rock to rock to get to them. Balasundaram called out, ‘Watch out Pazhani! The rocks are smooth. Don’t lose your foothold!’ Before he finished uttering those words, Pazhani’s foot slipped. He waved his hands in an attempt to regain balance. He fell, but luckily was able to hold on to the edge of the rock with his hands. He was dangling on the side of the rock. Unfortunately, the food basket fell in the water, and was being washed away. The lunch would be for the fish.

Balasundaram rushed to help Pazhani up. He conferred with Susheela. ‘No point blaming Pazhani for the accident. Even if we did blame him, it’s not going to make us less hungry. What do we do now?’. 

‘The dosas I made for your breakfast are still there. I can go get them.’, suggested Pazhani.

‘That sounds good. Get them to the wooden bridge. We’ll meet you there’, said Balasundaram.

Chapter 8

It was about 5 P.M when they finally ate the dosas and started their climb down. 

‘Now I know what real hunger feels like’, said Susheela.

“Crores of people in our country experience this every day”.

“Really? I can’t imagine how they survive such hunger. All these days, I used to get irked at the beggers who complained of hunger!’, said Susheela.

‘The population of India is 40 crores. About half of them are continually hungry. If we can’t somehow increase our food production…”

Susheela remembered all that she read in the newspapers. She sighed. 

Balasundaram was holding her hand to help her along the path. He said hesitatingly, ‘If only we could hold hands like this all our lives…!’

Susheela yanked her hand back. ‘I thought you decided to never get married!’.

Balasundaram chuckled, and asked what she meant. Susheela summarized what she had read in the newspapers.

‘Don’t you read anything fully?!’, exclaimed Balasundaram.

‘What is the full story then?’

‘I had concluded by saying that it’s worth marrying if one gets a companion who might help in this noble cause.’

Susheela thought for a while. ‘Do you think I’ll be such a helpful companion?’

‘Who better than you? I can help produce more food, and you can explain to people how to get the best use out of what I produce.”

Susheela chuckled, ‘Yes, you can produce food on one side, and I can make them lose their appetite on the other!’.

‘If they come to Kutralam, they’ll regain their appetite!’, said Balasundaram.

Their laughs mingled with the burble of the waterfall.

THE END.

Acknowledgments:

• A shout-out to Project Madurai, which publishes treasured works of Tamil literature (such as the original Tamil version of this story) online.
• Sujatha Anand for the artwork.

Kalki's works are in the public domain. Copyright for the translated version is with Anand Kannan.

Susheela M.A. - Novelette by Kalki in English (part 2 of 3)

Chapter 3

You may know of ‘Hitler’ Gurusamy. You better say that you do, Or there might be doubts as to your Tamil ancestry! Why is his name prefixed with ‘Hitler’? You may well ask. But you won’t get an answer. No one quite remembers why. It’s futile to ask when even Gurasamy doesn’t know how that prefix came about.

Let’s not list of the services that Gurusamy has rendered to Tamil and Tamil Nadu. If I list those, you may want to erect a statue of him in an unseen corner of town. He has lived a life dedicated to public services. He discovered the delights of the Tamil language when he was two. He made the sacrifice of pulling his finger out of his mouth to utter the sweet Tamil words - ‘Amma’ and ‘Appa’. After a couple of years, he graduated to learning ‘a’ ‘aa’, ‘e’ ‘ee’ etc. He loved these alphabets so much that he spent several years learning them. He also proved his love for Tamil by failing in English for four years in a row in his school final exams.

Upon recommendation from a prominent personality, he got a clerical job in a government office. One day, he overdosed on the sweet nectar of Tamil, and felt a bit drowsy. His eyes closed, and head swayed. The narrow-minded supervisor who came along thought he had fallen asleep, and dismissed him from the job. This was among the many sacrifices Gurusamy made for Tamil.

He toured the Tamil region, looking for work. You can’t travel around Tamil Nadu without visiting its temples. He felt a rage build within him as he traversed these temples. He’d heard the slogan, ‘Tamil Nadu is for Tamils’. By that logic, shouldn’t the temples of Tamil Nadu be for Tamil Gods? Tamil Gods were not to be found in those temples. Shiva is from Mount Kailash, and hence North Indian! His wife Parvathi is no different, being Himavan’s daughter! Lord Ganesh and Muruga are offsprings of the Aryans Gods! Not to mention Perumal - just listen to the name ‘Vishnu!”. Does that sound Tamil? All His incarnations were in the North - Rama, Krishna and Narasimha. There is one Dravida God - Hanuman, but he seems to be the stooge of an Aryan God as well!

‘Isn’t this a disgrace?’, he asked himself. ‘How can the Tamils live this down? The only way to redeem ourselves is to remove all these Aryan Gods from our temples. We should send away all these Gods - Shiva, Parvathi, Vishnu, Bhudevi, Sridevi, Rama, Krishna, Nataraja and Dakshinamurthy and replace them with native Gods - Irulan, Sangili Karuppan, Pethannan, Pavadai Rayan and Vazhi Marichan!’

“But who will bell the cat? The Tamilians won’t do this, or support anyone who attempts this. Spineless cowards! How do I drum up support for this cause? Ah, I got it. Gandhi has shown the way - fasting unto death! That should drive some sense into these insensate masses!”

As soon as this thought occurred to him, he proclaimed via a press release, “I’m going to fast until all Aryan Gods are evicted from our temples. I won’t eat until they apologize for illegally occupying our temples. I swear upon the village Gods Veeran, Irulan and Katteri!”

A few brave people rushed to support him. “Victory to Gurusamy”, they chanted. They rented a multi-story house in Chennai for him to move into. They brainstormed on ways to ensure his success in this critical mission. They decided to start a ‘Hitler Gurusamy Hunger Strike Trust Fund’.

News of Gurusamy’s hunger strike spread like wildfire. It awakened the alert masses. It also lulled the sleepy masses into deeper slumber. It was all the rage among the candidates for that year’s assembly elections.

To fully appreciate how sensational this was, you need to understand the political set up of that time. The Congress Party was ruling the province. It had been four years since Provincial self-rule had come into effect. The next elections were due. All parties in opposition were debating if they should contest against Congress, and if so, under what pretext. 

For them, this development came at a good time. All those opponents sent their forces to collect funds for the Hitler Gurusamy Hunger Strike Trust. They also sent people to protect the fundraisers from any interference from the Congressmen.

A week or so after the start of the fast, one of the newspapers supporting the opposition ran the following story.

A son of Tamil Nadu is on hunger strike! He’s been fasting for a week, but his courage hasn’t flagged. His health is still robust. He has retained his body weight. But these Congress ministers are mute witnesses. If Gandhi, Jawaharlal or Subash Bose had undertaken a fast, they would have rushed to respond. What do they care about Gurusamy, the scion of Tamil Nadu! They’re gladly letting him starve!

You insensate Tamil masses, how long are you going to put up with such Aryan domination? 

The outcry from the newspaper didn’t go unheard. People assembled around the residences of the provincial ministers and started shouting, “Long Live Hitler Gurusamy!” and “Down with the Aryan Gods!”.

The Gods didn’t budge. Nor did the Congress ministers!

Chapter 4

As Susheela followed Gurusamy’s hunger strike. her admiration for him grew. “What a man! How brave he must be to forsake food! I wonder what he looks like! I wonder if he is eloquent!”, she thought, as she built castles in the air.

Days rolled on. It was twenty days after the start of the hunger strike. Susheela couldn’t bear to stay in Tirunelveli anymore. ‘What is the point of living if I can’t go see this principled man?’, she thought. Gomathiappar, who never saw a revolt that he didn’t like, bade her goodbye, and sent her on her way. 

Alas, she reached Chennai without any incidents along the way!

News of her impending arrival had reached Chennai. It caused some anxiety in Hitler Gurusamy’s headquarters. Gurusamy wanted to go to the train station to receive her. His support staff begged him not to do that, and offered to go on his behalf. He reluctantly agreed.

As soon as she stepped inside the house, the words, “Where is he?” rushed out of the depths of her heart. On hearing, "He's upstairs!”, her legs automatically took her to his room upstairs. The eyes met. As a historian, I’m unworthy of describing the scene with adequate impact. It would take a Kamban, or a Kalidas-and-half to do full justice to the scene!

A few members of ‘The Brave Tamil Women’s Society’ heard of Susheela’s arrival and joined her. They took control of Gurusamy’s Hunger strike soon after arrival.

A mischievous Tamil magazine had quipped, “It has been twenty days since the hunger strike began. We hear that Gurusamy has sworn to go on another eighty days with no degradation in his health!”. Susheela had seen the article during her journey. She had a germ of a doubt on seeing the article. As soon as she met Gursuamy, all her misgivings vanished. ‘Just look at his innocent face and the clueless gape! Can such a man indulge in deceptions?’  She asked herself. 

In any case, to preempt any future questions, she announced that she was going to weigh Gursamy every day, and display the weight on a black board at the entrance of the house.

After Susheela’s arrival, the headquarters got busier. In addition to the people arriving to meet the revolutionary, there were those arriving to see the brave Tamil woman, Susheela. About thirty people started living in the house. The crowd had all sorts of people - members managing the trust fund, people organizing the protests against the ministers, people who wanted to serve Guruswamy, and the members of the Brave Tamil Women society. They were all served three elaborate meals per day downstairs. Gurswamy could only smell the food from his room upstairs. Mysteriously, he started losing weight.

 

For the first few days, Gurusamy did not mind this at all. He did not feel hungry. He was immersed in thoughts of Susheela. ‘Hunger is a small price to pay to win the respect of such a woman’, he told himself. The wonder he had felt when he first met the great woman had transformed into love in those few days. ‘How nice will it be to be married to her? Her father is a successful lawyer! She is educated and wealthy. The married life is sure to be blissful!”, he told himself. Occasionally, there was a discordant thought. “Health is wealth! How do you love or marry with failing health? I need to be alive to be able to marry her!”.  After four days, he felt faint. He experienced chest pains. He came to a conclusion. He had to keep himself alive for Susheela’s sake. Her love’s sake. He started thinking of ways to avoid causing her a heartbreak.

Chapter 5

Meanwhile, Chennai was witnessing frenzied activity. Several large public meetings were held every day. The leaders who participated gave rousing speeches. ‘After all, the idols in these temples are stones. Must a man give up his life for these lifeless idols? The Congress Government is a mute witness to this travesty!’, they roared.

Five days after Susheela’s arrival in Chennai, a large gathering was being organized on the beach. Luminaries from many parts of the province had arrived to participate. Susheela was advised to participate and speak. After some persuasion, she agreed to go. Considering the importance of the gathering, all the volunteers at the Hunger Strike headquarters decided to go as well.

Susheela spoke first. And how! Despite her inexperience in addressing large gatherings, she gave a stirring speech. Finally, she said, ‘We’re speaking and cheering here, while a brave man’s life is ..’. Words failed her at that point. She had a lump in her throat. Tears blurred her vision. She gave up and sat down at that point. The audience bawled in anguish.

Susheela was indeed shaken. She had a premonition of something terrible happening to Hitler Gurusamy. She wanted to rush to go see him. She whispered a few words to the people on stage, and slipped backstage to make her way back. Some eagle-eyed reporters guessed that she’d received word on some developments regarding Gursamy, so they left the meeting as well.

Susheela reached the headquarters. Her heart hammering hard, she quietly opened the door and went upstairs looking for Gurusamy. She was distraught on finding his room empty. She went to the kitchen, looking for the cook. What she saw there was staggering!! It was as if a bolt of lightning missed her and landed on the ground nearby!

Gurusamy was seated in front of a banana leaf. He was mixing sambar with rice and stuffing his mouth. It was perhaps fortunate that Susheela interrupted him at that point. Who is to say what the shock might have done to his starving body if had eaten everything in front of him!

He gaped dumbly for a while. Then he jumped up, knelt in front of Susheela and said, ‘Forgive me Susheela. Whatever I did, I did for love’. He looked up at her face. That was the last time he saw her face! 

It was at that moment that a group of reporters rushed into the room.

(Art by Sujatha Anand)

Continued in part 3.

Kalki's works are in the public domain. Copyright for the translated version is with Anand Kannan.

Susheela M.A. - Novelette by Kalki in English (part 1 of 3)

 

Novelette by Kalki Krishnamurthy. This story was published in 1948 in Ananda Vikatan’s Deepavali special edition. It’s a social satire from a time when satire was an unknown art form in Tamil prose. My English Translation.

Chapter 1

Our story starts circa 1941. I feel the need to explicitly call it a story. These days, it’s hard to convince people that real news is real. It’s even harder to convince them that fiction is fiction.

It was in that year that Ms. Susheela graduated as a Master of Arts with distinction. She had received her B.A in 1939. Not content with that accomplishment, she decided to pursue an M.A degree. Incidentally, the leadership of the University of Madras had introduced a new specialization for M.A - culinary arts. The new program had been introduced in response to public outcry -  people had protested that the university education was unsuitable for preparing young women for family duties. 

Susheela picked that new discipline as her major. The University had employed a European woman as a lecturer, at the expense of Rs. 950 per month. The salary proved that the ministers from the Congress Party could not sway the University from its extravagant ways.

Susheela spent two hectic years conducting research and experiments under this lecturer’s supervision. She was too busy to think about anything else during that time. Occasionally, her mind would wander towards Balasundaram, her fiancé, who had gone abroad to study electrical engineering. Soon, the thoughts would be drowned by more immediate concerns, such as whether it was appropriate to add salt to tomato appam. 

She was making excellent progress with her research on culinary history. She wrote a hundred-page article, addressing various questions; for example: when the Thirunelveli Dosa was invented, when it changed its shape from square to a circle, when chili powder emerged as its accompaniment etc. In the same vein, she wrote hundreds of pages on subjects such as Coimbatore jalebi, Tanjore sambar, Mysore rasam and Calcutta rasgulla.

She also traveled to Mohenjo-Daro, researched five thousand year old artifacts to unearth vital facts on ancient culinary arts. She used that research to prove that kozhukattai, the popular food in the Tamil region, was only three hundred years old. People were shocked when she was able to prove it by showing them archaeological evidence from five thousand years ago. They were cured of their infatuation on kozhukattai.

Susheela didn’t stop with just research. She conducted practical trials. An entire corridor in the women’s hostel was set aside for her trials. 

In the early days, the other residents in the women’s hostel were eager to help her with her work by tasting the new dishes that she invented. Their enthusiasm seemed to wane as time went by. The watershed event was her invention of ‘chloroform raita’. All the girls who tasted the raita were drowsy for three days. They were drowsy when they attended classes, drowsy as they studied, and drowsy when they slept. After this episode, the girls stopped visiting her makeshift laboratory. So Susheela had to be the sole test subject for her inventions.

The final examinations rolled around. That year, Susheela was the only student who appeared for the culinary art examinations. But there were nine examiners. The examiners examined her research work, and awarded her a score of 90%. Then they examined the meals she had created, smelt them from a distance, and awarded her 110%. 

Thus, Susheela stood first in the entire state in the M.A examinations. The University Syndicate also decided to award an honorary doctorate in recognition of her exceptional research work.

It must be mentioned that Susheela paid a dear price for winning such laurels. Sampling her own inventions had wrecked her digestive system!

Chapter 2

Greetings poured in after the results were published. She received several invitations for tea parties and dinners. This wasn’t surprising as she was the first woman to be ranked first in the M.A. examinations. Ladies’ clubs hosted a lunch in her honor. The municipality of Tirunelveli honored her with a special dinner. The teaching staff at the University gave her a banquet for the honors she brought to the University. The Brave Tamil Women Society, not wanting to be left behind, gave her lunch as well. She had to accept dining invitations from known, unknown, and semi-known people. On some days, she had to accept two, or even three invitations.

If you thought she would get away pretending to eat on these occasions, you’d be mistaken. If she picked at her food, people would say, ‘You may not like this food. You’re an expert in cooking - your standards must be higher!’. She had to eat decent portions to avoid hurting people’s sentiments.

You may have heard of ‘Neo-vanchak Lunch Home’, a well known restaurant in Chennai. The owner of this restaurant, a marketing-savvy man, wanted Susheela to grace the annual day celebrations of his restaurant. He persuaded her to participate with strong recommendations. That set a precedent. All restaurants in Chennai started inviting Susheela for public events. An enterprising restaurateur changed the name of his establishment to ‘Susheela Lunch Home’.

Susheela concluded it was no longer safe to stay in the city, and decided to return to Tirunelveli.

Again, she was mistaken in thinking her troubles would be over with the move. Her father, Diwan Bahadur Gomathi Nathappar, was very well known in Tirunelveli. In addition to being a popular lawyer, he had an active public life. He was the president of the local ‘Egalitarian Cemetery Club’. He was also the secretary of the ‘Mandatory Widow Remarriage Society’. He was an active member of ‘The Society for Swearing in Pure Tamil’. You just had to look at his daughter to see how interested he was in societal causes.

We don’t know how Susheela thought she could get a break from her dining obligations with such a father. It must have been a spectacular brain fade. Be that as it may, Susheela reached Tirunelveli. There was a big crowd waiting to receive her at the train station. When she reached home, there was an elaborate lunch. Gomathi Nathappar was eager to introduce his distinguished daughter to all his friends. Twenty years prior, there had been this man, who’d received an M.A. There had been such a hue and cry about his achievement that he was renamed M.A. Mudaliar. Now, for the first time, a woman had received an M.A. She has beaten all men to stand first in the province. No wonder that the father was proud of such a daughter.

More dinner invitations followed. Invitations started pouring in from The Egalitarian Cemetery Club, ‘The Mandatory Widow Remarriage Society’, ‘The Lawyer’s Union’, ‘The Co-operative Union’, ‘The Learning Society for the Ignorant’, the City Club, and many friends and relatives. At the dining table, they all said, ‘You’re just picking on your food. Our humble food must be bland! Not surprising, you have all those medals on the Culinary art’, and things in such a vein.

All this made Susheela despise food. The thought of food made her nauseous. Any talk of food fell like molten lead in her ears. To add to her agony, she didn’t believe she could discuss her problem with anyone else. Not even her father! If a man who played both mother and father to her from a young age could not sense how she felt, what could she expect from others?

There was one person, however, who would understand her perfectly. He had boarded a ship. He would be home soon. The two of them could go somewhere remote where no one would talk about food and cooking!

That one person was Mr. Balasundaram, B.A., B.E. He was from a small town called Therinjkkadu near Thenkasi. After receiving his engineering degree in Chennai, he went abroad for higher studies. He had completed his studies creditably, and was returning home. He had been engaged to Susheela for a while. Gomathi Nathappar had said that they could get married after they both finished their studies.

Susheela had been looking forward to hearing that he had arrived in India. At long last, she received the news through a telegram. Susheela forgot all her distinct achievements and acted like the leading ladies we see in the talkies. She sang to herself, performed dance moves, powdered her face, adjusted the bindi on her forehead, admired herself in the mirror, and acted silly in several other ways. She couldn’t wait for the time they could go somewhere remote, where there was no threat of dinners and tea parties.

A letter from Balasundaram followed in a couple of days. He professed his endless love for Susheela. He said his heart was beating faster in anticipation of their reunion. He also said he would have to stay in Bombay a little longer to study the use of electricity in the city’s cotton mills and should be able to be with her within a month. In the end, he had added:

“I need to do this to prepare for the work I want to do in our province. If that wasn’t the case, I’d have come flying to be with you. You’re my world. I long to see you. It’s not just that. I’m dying to come home and taste dosa, idli, sambar and rasam again. It has been two years since I tasted good food. I’d gladly trade the entire city of Bombay for a dosa. If only I could get a crispy murukku now… Wait - what am I doing? Telling you, the culinary arts expert, about something as mundane as murukku! Forgive me. When I reach there, I’m eager to taste your novelties, like drumstick halwa, tamarind pudding, neem curry, grapefruit fry and the like.

Yours forever,

Balasundaram”.

Susheela went crazy with rage on reading this. She tore the letter into pieces. Then she joined the pieces to recover Balasundaram’s address. Then she wrote to him.

“I received your letter. I hate you. You make me sick to the stomach. I don’t want to set eyes on you.

Can’t you wretched people think of anything other than food and eating?

- Susheela, who used to love you.”

She sealed the letter in an envelope and sent it to be mailed. She collapsed on the sofa. The world seemed barren. ‘Why was I born, and why am I alive?’, she thought.

The servant brought a newspaper. She idly glanced at the headlines. A line in bold caught her eyes.

“Hitler Gurusamy on a fast unto death!”

 She sat bolt upright after reading this. She read on.

“Tamil Temples must belong to Tamil Gods”

“Aryan Gods’ Atrocity”

“Hunger Strike, Death and Then?”

It’s hard to describe Susheela’s emotions on reading these headlines. She read on with great enthusiasm.

(Art by Sujatha Anand)

Click here to read part 2 .

Kalki's works are in the public domain. Copyright for the translated version is with Anand Kannan.